Daughters Will Love Like You Do
by ToGoAndLetGo
Summary: House raised her all on his own when her mother passed away. She grew into a woman he could respect. but she would always be his little girl. House daughter story, yeah yeah, but this one has a different angle. Whatever. Updated. Spoilers S4
1. Daughters will love like you do

Daughters Will Love Like You Do

They got their house, as a gift from her parents two days after they found out she was pregnant. They'd moved in, and she went to work on building this nursery that made Disneyland look like the saddest place on earth. His only request was that they didn't shower the little girl in pink. He didn't want her ending up being some cheerleader. She'd written a song for their daughter, and he painted the music along the walls while she folded sheets and stuffed drawers full of clothes. This wasn't the life he'd expected. This wasn't the life that he'd wanted, but he found it very easily coming to him the closer she got to giving birth.

Sunday was his day. Monday thru Saturday she was mostly with mom while House worked himself to death at the hospital. He was paying his dues in fellowship, so he was rarely home with his musician wife and three year old daughter. But Sunday, he would sit in the back yard looking over medical books or files for patients he was caring for while she played in the elaborate playhouse, from her mother's mother, that was probably the same price as their main home.

She'd drag him to the sand now and then, and he'd watch her build a castle or she'd get pushed on the tire swing he'd hung from the tree in back, giggling with a melodic child laugh that made him love her more with each sound. She'd stare at him with her big blue eyes and trust him completely. It scared him.

"She has to go inside and wash up for lunch."

"You're such a mother," Came House's reply, pulling the girl gently from the swing and watching her run inside, once her feet touched the ground.

"Is that so wrong?" Laugh. "Despite yourself, Greg you actually make a pretty decent father."

He made a dramatic whine and flopped into a chair as she laughed and ruffled his hair.

She was a curious little girl. Always getting into things she shouldn't, making messes and giving him a big puppy-dog face that made him forget why he wanted to scold her in the first place. She was good. Always pulling one over on him, he knew the minute she hit her teens he was in for trouble.

House had fallen asleep on the couch, after a night working that turned into a day and another night before he knew it. He'd come home too exhausted to make it to the bed and just flopped down on the couch for the night. When he woke, there was some extra baggage with him. He looked suspiciously down to his chest to investigate.

Sprawled on top of him, a mess blonde jungle of curls and a tiny little frame of little girl. He couldn't help the slight melting sense he felt as he looked down at his little girl. Reaching a hand up, House moved some of her hair into a more straightened condition when the little girl popped up her head with big wide eyes and a sense of wonderment.

"Hey midget, what's up?" He smirked.

"You got drums!" She replied, in disbelief.

There was a moment where Greg's exhausted brain took a minute to register the language of the three-year-old girl. He chuckled when it dawned on him and he moved to sit up a little. She moved and sat in his lap resting her ear over his chest again. Her eyes were still wide and amazed.

"That's my heart," He replied.

She looked up at him confused by that, squishing her nose up a little. He laughed this time and rubbed her head.

"What's that?" She replied.

"It's a very important organ. And you have one too…" He took her hand and laid it on her chest, pressing it in softly. "Feel it?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't think it works."

House got up then and went to his bedroom, coming back with a stethoscope and crouched down in front of her, putting the ear piece in her ears and holding up the diaphragm. He rubbed it between his hands to warm it up slightly and slipped it onto her chest.

"You hear it?" He asked her.

She was looking down at his hand but when the sound hit her ears, he knew it instantly as her little head popped up, her mouth hung open and her eyes widened into a big grin. "I got drums too!"

"I'll take that as a yes." He grinned.

"Aria. Stop fidgeting." Blythe House scolded quietly.

The five-year-old girl with blonde ringlet curls and a black ribbon tying it into a half ponytail looked up at her grandmother with an irritated huff. She stared at her toes; clad in black paten leather Mary Jane shoes. Beside her, sat her grandparents and on the other side her father who didn't once look over, just kept his gaze firmly at the front of the room. She shifted in her seat, making a small whine, as her bottom was sore from sitting on the hard wooden pew. She looked up at House, his face was contorted and he was crying. Aria reached over and tugged at his black suit coat.

"Daddy… I'm hungry." She whimpered.

He snapped back at her. "Be quiet Aria."

The girl blinked and then crossed her arms over her chest. Her grandmother reached over and took the girl in her lap, whispering something House couldn't make out. He kept his eyes on the coffin at the front of the church sanctuary. He forgot everyone around him, especially his young daughter, because her mother was lying lifeless before them.

Blythe buckled her into her car seat in the back seat of House's car. She kissed the girls forehead before shutting the door. Aria watched as her father hugged his own mother, for a long time, before she went back to combing the hair on her little pony and fussing with the little ruffles on her black dress. She only looked up when her father got into the car.

"Daddy…"

"What?" The reply was only slightly harsh.

"I think you shouldn't be sad." The little girl said with a sing-songy voice.

House clutched the will harder, until his knuckles were white. He had to swallow back the instant bark he wanted to emit. She was a child and he still wasn't entirely sure she understood what was going on. He swallowed and closed his eyes once he stopped at a red light, sucking in a deep breath.

His voice shook. "Why not, midget?"

She was innocent in her reply. "Because you'll see mommy again. Mommy's okay. She's with the angels now."

"Who told you that?" He scoffed.

"Gramma. Gramma says that we'll see mommy again someday, but right now the angels need her." She said knowingly.

Greg immediately felt anger fill his throat like white-hot fire. He couldn't help himself. He pulled into the driveway and parked the car before glancing back at her in the rearview. He regretted the words that came from his mouth in the exact instant they left.

"Your mother is dead, Aria. And she's not coming back. She's dead and not with the angels and you won't ever see her again."

There was silence for a minute as if someone had paused the movie of their lives to go and attend to a more pressing matter. She looked at him and he could see the tears welling in her eyes, the sniffle in her nose and the trembling of her tiny little bottom lip. She unbuckled her safety seat and ran from the car. With a sigh, half miserable, half frustrated, he followed her.

"Aria! Come back here. I'm sorry." He called as she ran off.

Aria disappeared behind the door of her playhouse slamming it behind her. He sighed, knowing that standing over six feet tall, he'd never fit inside. Taking a breath, House knocked gently on the door. The girl didn't answer. He knocked again, but the door didn't budge. Clearing his throat, he knocked a final time.

"Aria… come out here." He said softly.

"No!" She replied.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Because I'm never coming out again!" She cried.

House blinked and sat down beside the door, leaning against the wall of the small building. Resting his arms on his knees he leaned toward the door.

"Why aren't you coming out?" He was now a bit more curious than upset.

She was quiet for a minute. Finally, the little door opened. She peeked her head out, her small pale cheeks stained red from the natural flush that came to them when she'd cry. They were puffy and wet and her little eyes looked were soaked and pouring more tears.

"Because it's safe in here." She said softly.

That nearly destroyed him. He felt the sting of tears in his nose, as he looked her over. He sat up and reached over to hold the door open.

"I could use some of that. Can I come in?" He asked.

She nodded and moved away from the door, as her father crawled inside on his hands and knees. He had to stay low to the ground, so he stayed on his knees, but once inside he wrapped his arms around her.

He took a job in Princeton a few months after the funeral. He sold the house and packed up their things and hit the road. Aria wasn't in school yet so she didn't mind the change. By the time she was ten years old, she'd become something he'd dreaded. She'd become popular. And so the condo was filled with a gaggle of little girls for sleepovers and birthdays and play dates. She was always asking to be taken somewhere to someone's sleepover or birthday or play date. And she was never home after school, because she'd been coxed into playing Lacrosse in a kiddy team. That of course he didn't mind because he'd played lacrosse but at ten years old he'd already felt like his was losing his daughter.

But it was Sunday. And Sunday had historically been his day. So they sat together at the piano as she practice her lessons. She was mostly self-taught having a natural gift he claimed was genius.

"So when should I expect your first piano concerto?" He asked, as she played scales. "You know, Mozart wrote his first at 8."

"I don't even care." She said, with a snark in her voice. "I'm just having fun."

Aria moved from scales to playing a collection of notes. It sounded complex, melodic, original. She played it freely, not once looking at her hands, her eyes closed. She was playing a song. And it was a song he'd never heard before.

"Midget, did you write that?" He asked.

"Yep." She replied, like it was nothing.

He watched her continue, almost shocked. He scooted closer, then watched her fingers on the keys. He changed his mind. He was shocked. He knew she'd be talented but he really hadn't expected her to be writing songs at her age. He hadn't really even expected her to have an interest in music.

"Will you teach me how to play your song, Midget?" House asked.

She nodded and placed her fingers under his, guiding him along the keys.

"This is what I want to do for the rest of my life, daddy."

"Whys that?"

Aria looked at him, her big blue eyes sparkling. "It makes me happy."

She never liked Stacy. Stacy had tried to be a mother to her, and when that she tried to be a friend. But, Aria couldn't allow her father to do the work of finding her a prom dress for the spring formal she was lucky to be invited to as a freshman. House wasn't too excited about her going, but he knew the junior boy who had asked her, and was pretty convinced that boy liked boys. He was glad to have Stacy take her, since he had a pressing golf engagement the day she had free to find a dress.

Three days later it was prom night. Aria was in her room getting on her dress, having just come back from the hair salon. House and Stacy were dealing with the pain that was consistently getting worse in his thigh. He was curled up on the couch gritting his teeth, listing things he was pretty convinced were wrong with him, as Stacy tried to figure out a course of action.

"Okay! I'm coming in there. Be honest okay?" Aria called from her room, completely unaware of the living room scene.

House forced himself up from the couch, choking back his screams long enough to see the tall blonde girl come from her room in a long dark blue iridescent gown, her hair up in a curly up do with sparkly clips. She spun around the dress twirled around her ankles. She looked grown up and stunning at 15 years old.

"You look great. Just don't have sex." House said a little a more through his teeth than he realized.

"I know I know. And I won't. I call you when I get to Kayla's house after the prom so that you can talk to her parents." She said with a slight eye roll.

He tried his best to not limp over to her but putting wait on his mysteriously ailed leg was killing him. He wrapped her in his arms and gave her a hug. She hugged back with a giggle.

"Have fun." Stacy told her.

She just nodded with a look of disinterest and headed for the door at the sound of a honk. She looked back just as she walked out.

"I love you daddy!" And Aria shut the door behind her.

She got the phone call that her dad was in a coma on her way to the after party at Kayla's house. She never made it to the party, because the rest of her first prom night was spent sitting in a waiting room.

Visiting hours were technically over when Wilson found the girl sprawled across a row of uncomfortable waiting room chairs, her dress a wrinkled mess and wrapped in the sweatshirt her dad had been wearing when he came in. He felt miserable for the girl, her hair a mess of what used to be a prom up-do and the make-up she had been wearing smeared on her face from the tears. He bent down next to her on the floor and rested his hand on her arm. She moved a little and blinked picking her head up.

"Hey… you should probably go home. I can drive you if you'd like." Wilson told her, speaking softly.

She shook her head. "No. I'm staying until we know if he's okay."

"Aria… there's nothing you can do. He's safe in the coma, he asked for it so he could sleep through the pain." Wilson reasoned.

"Yeah… and Stacy gave him a surgery he didn't want. I don't trust her. If she's staying I'm staying. He's going to be pissed when he wakes up and I want front row seats to when he kills her."

Wilson tried not to laugh. "Well we could at least take you to his office, or mine. Sleep on something more comfortable."

Her face contorted. She gazed back at him, her blue eyes shaking with moisture as more tears filled them. She shook her head, almost violently.

"I'm staying right here." She said stubbornly.

"Aria… you should at least change out of the dress, it can't be comfortable."

Reluctantly, Aria nodded. Wilson stood and wrapped her in his arms when she made it to her feet. As if she were a tower who's foundation gave beneath her, she crumbled into his arms, her body wracked with sobs. He stood there, holding her and comforting the young girl the best way that he could. But he knew nothing could fix the experience she was going through. Having lost her mother, she now faced her father's unknown future.

House found Aria to be rather hard to find in few months following the infarction. She was either at school; at practice and if she wasn't one of those places she'd find some other excuse not to be home. From her band at one of the other member's homes or spending the night at a gal pals, she'd do anything to be away from home. And he didn't really blame her. He was constantly at odds with Stacy.

In fact, Aria found it hard to even say a kind word to Stacy. She'd come in breeze passed her father's girlfriend and cohabitant of the condo, and go to her own room. But she'd always make sure to relish in a loving and over-caring hello to House.

Aria walked in still in her practice clothes from Lacrosse, her blonde hair in a ponytail and sucking on a water bottle. Practice had been over for a couple hours but she went to dinner with some of the girls from the team. But she didn't come home to yelling, or arguing or sniping. She came home to silence. Her dad was sitting at the piano playing calmly, his bottle of vicodin sitting on the top of it.

She took one look around, noticed that the place was missing a few things. She didn't have to ask. Stacy was gone. Dropping her bag at the door, she took a seat beside him to play. They didn't have to discuss it. In fact, she knew he probably didn't want to. They let the music fill the silence in the room, and the duet speak their words.

"Dad? Have you seen my purple sweater? The cashmere one that Gramma Anne gave me?" Aria was hanging out the door standing on the stairs that led to her room.

"No. And if you can't find it then I guess you have to stay." He replied, from his place at the piano.

"You're a dick." Was her reply before going back up the stairs.

High school had passed to quickly. She graduated with honors, and a million offers to any school she chose. She got into Princeton, which was in her backyard and where her dad worked. But Aria decided that she wanted to see the world and accepted entrance into the Royal Music Academy. That was in London. While she packed up her necessity items to leave him alone for the first time since he married Melody, he decided he'd sit and pout about her decision.

She came back down the stairs. "So… you're going to ship whatever I can't fit in the luggage I take on the plane right? Or should I ask Wilson to do it for me, since when you pout you can't be trusted."

House scoffed. "I'm not pouting."

Aria laughed. "Really? Sitting here playing piano while your daughter packs for college in another country isn't pouting?"

He looked at her for a minute and sighed. "Why London? Princeton is a perfectly good school and you can get a vocal performance degree there."

She sighed and came into the living room, flopping down on the couch. She looked him over for a long time, tugging her long blonde hair out of the ponytail. As she spoke, her eyes started to tear a little. He then felt a bit guilty for bringing it up

"When you were my age, you'd already seen most of the world. You got to travel when you were young and learn different languages and experience different cultures. Whether you liked it then or not, the stuff you got to do because of your dad being in the service made you the person you are today. You wouldn't be nearly as genius if you couldn't rattle of Hindi or tell me the state of Chinese market value in 1975. You can make judgments on people because you've seen that in every country, in every culture people are basically the same fundamental being. And I want to be able to have an education like that. There's only so much I can learn in the United States."

House soaked it in a second. Then puffed out his cheeks. She had a point and the worst part about that was he knew she was right. He had to let her go. She hadn't gotten to do much as a kid because he was afraid to let her. He didn't know if whatever had killed her mother would be genetic. He didn't want to experience losing a daughter also. Every time she scraped a knee or fell off her bike, when she broke her arm after climbing a tree, and got a concussion during a lacrosse game. When she tried to go surfing and took a little too long to surface after getting pounced on by a wave. All of these moments had terrified him. The thought of her being that far away for four years of college, scared him more than he was willing to admit to even himself.

"Alright. Go. I'll take you to the airport tomorrow, but if you come back with a fruity accent like a Brit, I'm dis-owning you. You can go live with Wilson." He paused. "Are you sure you want to move into your dorm alone?"

She thought it over and gave him a grin. "Are you up for a trip to London?"

But he couldn't go to London. He wanted to, more than anything, so that he could experience her slamming the dorm room door in his face and telling him to go back to the States like some English girl. He wanted to help her unpack and decide where to put things and be sure she was safe and comfortable. Buy her a can of mace to keep on her keychain. He couldn't do those things because he had a patient who was dying, rather inconvientent and rude of her to do. He couldn't let Chase be by himself and Cameron had only been there a week. Besides, they were morons.

So they stood outside Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in one of those ridiculous hug scenes that belonged in a movie. Her tiny, short body nestled like a puzzle piece against his, arms wrapped around each other. She was crying but trying to convince him that she wasn't. That she didn't want to go. He was going to take her to the airport but she wanted to say her good-byes now.

"If I do it there, I won't leave. I want to be able to just get out of the car, get my bags and wave to you." She had said.

She drove him to work that morning, dropped him off and then gone home to pack up her things. Then she returned and parked in his handicapped parking space and went in to find him. Once outside, Aria melted into his arms to say her good-byes.

"You'll be home. Eventually." He said. "You'll get sick of blood pudding and fish and chips and long for a good old American cheeseburger and come swimming home."

She laughed. "I'm going to swim home? I doubt that."

"Lazy, that's what you are Aria." Came his reply and a smirk to go with.

With that, he ruffled his hair and went inside to tell Cuddy he was going to the airport with Aria and would be back. She'd said her good-bye's to the girl also, Wilson too having given her mini DVD player as a going away gift to watch on the long flight across the pond.

Aria waited outside the door, sending a text message to one of her friends to say she couldn't make a party because she was off to London. As she went to replace the phone in her pocket it slipped from her hand and just before it hit the ground, another hand, not her swooped in to catch it. She looked up to see the blonde man standing in front of her, holding her phone and handing it back to her.

"Careful with these, they break easily." He said with a smile and a gorgeous Australian flow.

She nodded, too captivated for words before she managed to squeak out a thank you.

He nodded and headed inside; she watched his ass as he left. And almost like clockwork, there was House, beside her as her eyes continued to follow the young man was he walked toward the elevator. Her father completely oblivious, headed off toward the car.

"Are you coming?" He called to her.

Aria shook her head and looked at her father. "Yep. I'm coming."

She jogged a little to catch up with him as he headed for the car.


	2. Girls become lovers

But Aria didn't come home

But Aria didn't come home. Except for her first Christmas. She called a lot, and emailed more than she called. She'd send him little things that made her think of him, like Black Adder DVDs and pictures of her friends and her doing touristy stuff to make him laugh. She'd relay stories about school and her awful professors who reminded her of Mr. Bumble from Oliver Twist. She never sounded homesick, or lonely or miserable. She was always rushed on the phone off to do such and such with so and so. Some days they were going shopping in Notting Hill. Other days they were taking the train into Paris to check out some art. He missed her but he knew she was happy and spreading her wings just as she'd told him he needed to her.

So when Stacy came back, he didn't tell Aria. And when she left again, this time because he told her too, his daughter was oblivious. He wanted to avoid her I told you so, her lectures her anger. One thing the girl gained from her mother was the ability to argue him down and prove him wrong even when he didn't want to admit it. She hated Stacy from the beginning. The idea of them having a fling while Stacy was married to another man, would send Aria around the bend. House would venture to guess that had Aria known, she'd have come home and killed him.

When he was shot he told Wilson and Cuddy specifically not to call her. So she never heard. And when the ketamine was tried and failed, Aria continued on in London as if nothing was happening. This time it was more about not wanting her to worry about something she couldn't do anything about. House had been shot. It was over and done. He'd survived it. Calling her and telling her about it wasn't something she needed on her plate. The ketamine would get her hopes up almost as much as it has his. She'd been looking into things on her own, and if he recalled sent him an email about it once herself. She'd have been devastated for him when it failed. So for that reason, House decided she didn't need to be informed, unless it stuck.

During the issues with Tritter and rehab and the threat of losing everything, her conversations with her father were only positive and focused on her. When she asked what he was doing, he responded with something simple:

"Same old, same old." And she was satisfied with that.

The possibility of her dad going to jail for his stupid behavior would have stopped her from focusing on school. Had he gone to jail and stayed there, she'd have hated him for it. She was an advocate against the theory that his addiction was a bad thing. After all, he raised her and she knew him better than anyone. She knew when he said he needed the pills that he actually did need them. If she for one second thought that maybe she'd been wrong, she'd have felt angry and betrayed for being in his corner and defending her. She'd have the ultimate sense of betrayal. Aria would have lost her trust for him. And he wouldn't dare do that to her.

Without knowing what was happening in the States, Aria spent her summers backpacking through Germany and Amsterdam. She went skiing in the Swiss Alps and studied music in Italy for a semester with her classmates. And she had a cute boyfriend who was destined for the House of Lords and studied at Oxford. As quick as they began they were over and she didn't seem to mind. Because the one thing he always heard from her was that she was having fun, and for that simple reason he couldn't tell her these things that happened back home.

House knew Aria too well. The very moment she sensed trouble, she would be on the first flight home. That was the last thing he wanted. In every single instance in which House had harmed himself either physically or emotionally he kept his daughter in the dark. She'd lost her mother and the idea of losing her father would be more than she could tolerate.

Before meeting Cuddy in Singapore, he made his way to London to watch her graduate.

"I thought for sure you wouldn't come." She teased.

They sat together at Carnaby Restaurant, her cap and gown beside her in the empty chair, and her diploma on the table, enjoying a celebratory dinner. He was surprised to her how much she'd grown up in the passed four years. It was like he didn't even know her. And he was happy to hear, she sounded as American as the day she'd moved.

"I had to. You actually graduated. Besides, I have to go meet Cuddy for some conference." He groaned a little at the end.

"What did you do to get roped into that?" She laughed.

"It's a diagnostics thing. So when are you coming home?"

Aria stopped eating her meal and took a long drink from her glass of wine. That wasn't a good sign. Aria was just as vocal and loud as her father so when she quieted down it meant she was about to say something he wasn't going to like.

"I think I'm going to stay…" She almost whispered it. "Not long, but… well we're getting a little house and we're all going to start working on careers together."

"Who's we?" He couldn't help but feel a little unhappy.

She swallowed. "Some friends. Meg my roommate from school and Ashton one of our hall mates and James."

"Your ex." He confirmed.

"I'm just going to stay at least another year, and then I'm coming back to the States to do my career there. I just… I'm happy here. I like it here. And I'm not ready to just up and leave yet."

House soaked it in before finally nodding. He couldn't deny her that. This was her life, and her experience. She was an adult now. He couldn't stop her from staying. She had a job to pay her bills with and she had a degree.

"Just promise me you'll come home again, one day before I die."

She laughed. "I will."

Aria stood outside the hospital not really sure if she was ready to go inside. She hadn't even taken the time to pack anything after getting the phone call from Dr. Cuddy. She hadn't even soaked it all in. Something about a bus accident and a heart attack and god knows what else she said. At the time of the call, her father was in a coma and that was all she needed to hang up the phone and take the first flight she could book. The only thing she'd brought with her was her phone and her laptop, which was still packed the studio.

On Cuddy's end she knew she shouldn't have made the call. House would likely be mad at her for dragging the girl home for "nothing" but as far as Cuddy knew, House needed his one relative he was willing to talk to. She wasn't entirely sure if House would bounce back from this new series of stupid stunts at the expense of his health, and she wanted to be sure that his daughter at least have a chance to be with him, in case the worst happened. He could be mad all he wanted, but this time she knew Wilson wasn't going to be there to clean up the mess, and Aria deserved to know.

Taking a deep breath, Aria made her way inside, getting in the elevator. It didn't matter that she was in her pajamas or that her hair was a mess or that she hadn't slept in god knows how long from the flight here from her vacation with James and her other roommates in Monaco. The only thing that mattered to her at the moment was that the fucking elevator go faster in case she had very few moments left with her father.

Chase stood in the elevator before she did so the ride up to the ICU. She didn't look at him. She chewed her lip, staring ahead, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet, nervous, anxious and impatient.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, after clearing her throat.

She gave him a nod, not looking over. "I'm just here to see my father."

Chase nodded. "Well, I'm sure he's going to be fine. We have some of the best doctors here."

Aria gave him a glance. She didn't really notice that she'd met him before or that she knew that accent. Her mind was in one place. But she smiled softly, knowing full well what the point of his talking to her was.

"Thanks… I'll try to remember that." She was off the elevator the second it stopped.

Chase watched her go, only momentarily recalling a few years ago, handing her back her cell phone just outside the doors of the hospital. He smiled a little as the doors closed, not seeing where she went.

A few hours later, she'd decided she needed a coffee. Her father was still incoherent at best, she wasn't entirely sure that he knew she was there. She'd sat for four hours in that chair waiting for him to talk to her, but he didn't say a word. He didn't look at her. He kept watching the door. She knew very well what he was waiting for and it broke her heart that she also knew, that it probably wouldn't happen any time soon. Aria had only been briefly filled in by Cuddy, shortly after getting there, about all the goings on that had led up to where they were now.

She sat alone in the cafeteria, sipping on the coffee that was only about half way drinkable. She was curled up in a chair against the wall, in the corner, so not to be bothered, with a notepad and a pen.

Chase noticed her almost right away, her short blonde hair held out of her face with a very small ponytail. He didn't know if it was bad form to talk to her now, or ask her about her father, but he justified his approach by his curiosity being medically relevant. If it led to deeper conversation, well then so be it. At any rate, she looked like she could use someone to talk to.

"Excuse me… I met you in the elevator earlier. How's your father?" He asked.

Aria looked up with big blue, tired eyes. "He's… stable. Thank you."

He nodded. "May I sit?"

She moved an arm up against the wall to rest her head against and gave him a nod. Aria looked him over, and she smiled. She did recognize him. The blonde hair, the accent. He was the same guy who'd caught her phone years ago before she'd left for college.

"You saved my phone's life. I suppose I owe you one." She smiled. "May I buy you a coffee?"

He laughed. "No that's okay. It's just all in a days work."

Aria nodded and looked back at her note pad, bouncing the pencil in her fingers against the pad off the eraser. She knew he was probably going to flirt, but part of her was okay with that. It might renew some of her mental health for before she returned to her dad's side. She could use the break from the somber atmosphere, and if she hadn't left Monaco, she'd have plenty of hot foreign guys to choose from.

Chase cleared his throat. "I'm Robert. Chase."

"I'm Aria. It's nice to meet you Robert." At that moment, she was too enchanted by his smile to recall where she'd heard his name before.

"Well Aria… I have a surgery in about twenty minutes. But if you need someone to talk to, or a refill on coffee… don't hesitate to find me."

She gave him a grin. "I won't. I think I'm alright for now. I'm just going to do some more creative flow."

He looked at the pad and then at her. "A writer?"

She shook her head. "A musician. It's amazing what sitting in a hospital can do for your writer's block."

He nodded, giving her a small, shy smile. "Maybe I can hear what you're working on some time."

She grinned. "Sure."

He gave her a nod, before leaving the table. She couldn't help herself and just as she had years ago, checked out his backside as he walked away. Taking a moment to digest her attraction and finish her coffee, she took the notepad and her purse, returning to the hospital room.

The beep of the finished washing machine disturbed her recording. With a curse, she hit the wrong key on the piano causing a discord in the music. She turned off the recording on her laptop and then deleted the file. The third time she'd have to start over.

Aria shot a glance to her father, idly sitting on the couch flipping channels. She let out a sigh and stood, coming over and taking the remote, turning the sound on the television back on, before handing it back to him.

"We could go… get dinner somewhere." She said, before heading in to put the laundry in the dryer.

House gave her a grumble of something she couldn't hear from the other room. She tossed the clothes into the dryer and pressed the buttons. It'd been almost a month since he'd been home. He wasn't really the same man she'd remembered him to be. He wasn't interested in much else but going to work, then coming home. She found herself staying home and taking care of things because they were so neglected. He didn't eat much, he didn't sleep much and just when he seemed like he was getting better… something would change his mind. It was like Stacy had left all over again.

"I didn't understand that. Try it again, this time in English." She snarked.

He shot her a glare. "I don't want to go out."

Aria nodded and closed up her laptop putting it away. A few weeks ago she'd gotten all of her things from London in the mail, curtiosy of James and Meg with a "Hope things get better soon" note attached. She sighed, thinking of the things she could be doing in back there with her friends. But she was here, with her father, who she could hardly get to speak to her.

"Are you done playing?" He said, almost disappointed.

"Yeah. I can't get anything recorded with the distractions." She sounded a bit uneasy with that. "Which sucks because I wanted to get a demo out soon. I'm wasting time."

He sat up a little from his slouch. "I like hearing you play."

Aria sat on the piano bench, facing the couch with her hands between her knees.

"I couldn't tell anymore…" She got quiet. "Do you want me to play?"

House gave her a nod, turning the TV off and directing his entire attention toward Aria as she adjusted her seating facing the keys. Placing her fingers down she looked at her hands a moment. She wanted the right song to play for him. She'd had a lot of newly written stuff, and wanted something he hadn't heard.

And when she started, House found himself unable to bring his attention to anything else. He was particularly interested in the depth of the lyrics she had written. For her age, for her experience she wrote like a woman who had seen more pain in a short life than she should have.

Dr. Cuddy had been so kind as to take the time to fill his daughter in on the medical emergencies for the last few years. Not to mention she was filled in on his legal troubles also. By the time she'd found out about his stunt in the light socket, the girl had screamed at him. Straight out screamed at him. She'd never been so angry. Sure, he'd seen her moody. She did spend time as a teenager like everyone else. And when Aria was a teenager everything was his fault. But she'd never been as angry as she was.

"You kept me in the dark about this and I promise you that if all of that hadn't happened, this wouldn't be so bad! Oh right, I forgot… you did all this to yourself. Except the bus accident part, but then again, I don't know. Are you trying to kill yourself? Has that been your goal all along? What would have happened if one of those fucking times had killed you?" She paused, taking a breath. "You know what? I'm glad I didn't know then. Because I would have killed you considering you were so eager to make me an orphan."

House didn't have a defense against her words. She was right. And he still felt he was right. Aria had deserved to know at the time. Maybe not at the time, but after the fact she at least deserved a phone call saying: "Hey, daddy did this but he's okay now." Didn't she?

_You are broken and callow_

_ Cautious and safe_

_ You are boundless and beauty _

_ With fright in your face_

_ Until someone loves you, I'll keep you safe_

_ But like them I will give you away._

_ And when you're gone will they say your name_

_ And when you're gone will they love you the same_

_ If not that's okay_

When she finished her song he cleared his throat. Her words made everything very clear to him. She'd had a load dumped on her lately, and when he really thought about it, she'd been carrying a few loads her whole life. She'd taken everything with a grain of salt and carried the weight around without a smile or a complaint. Aria had always been the more mature one, from the day of the funeral when she talked to him about angels, to now when she swooped in and cleaned up his messes and took care of him like she was the mother and he the child. For the first time he saw his daughter in a light that he hadn't before. Her life was spent trying to forget the terrible things. First her mother's death, her father withdrawing from the loss and then his infarction and the continued closing off of himself he'd done in the Stacy wake. She'd bared it all for him, and never once complained. Aria was stronger than he was.

She looked over at him and felt herself melt instantly. His eyes rimmed slightly with tears, which was rare for her to see, even after her mother had died.

"When did you grow up?" He asked her.

"A long time ago." She said sadly, moving from the bench to the couch beside her.

He was quiet looking at her for a long time, before moving some of her hair behind her ear. "Was I a bad father?"

Aria felt the tears start in her nose before she felt them trickle down her cheek. She sniffled and shook her head viciously. Before speaking, mostly because she couldn't yet, she wrapped her arms around him.

"No. You were a great father. Still are." She sniffled and then laughed a little. "You just do a lot of stupid crap sometimes."

There had been many times she'd stood outside this office door. When she was a kid and ran amuck in the hospital just before her dad closed up the office for the day, she found a perfect hiding spot behind this wood door. She spent summers playing behind this door with the various desk trinkets or the toys she had with her in her Little Mermaid backpack. This room, this office, had always been a place of comfort and solace not just for her but most of the time for the patients that passed through that door.

But this time, the name James Wilson, MD wasn't one that invoked a pleasant emotion. It held an almost ominous quality, the door itself almost like the gateway to hell. She put her hand on the door handle, then pulled back a second, walking away. Thinking about it again, she stopped again, turning back to the door and just opening, walking through it with more courage than she remembered having in a long time. She had things to say and she had to get them off her chest.

"Aria…" Wilson looked up, a bit surprised by her entrance. "I heard you were back but I hadn't…"

She cut him off. "I imagine it's a hard thing to do, seeing as you weren't ever near his room and you haven't come by to see if he's okay or how his recovery is going. But you know… whatever."

"It's complicated… I just lost my girlfriend." He told her.

With a nod she shut the door, looking around the office that was being packed into moving boxes. On the top of one of the boxes, she noticed a Barbie that had once belonged to her. She left it behind one day, and he kept it in the drawer in his office for her next visit. And she told him that he could have it, so he could have a friend too. She was surprised he'd kept it all these years.

"So I hear…" She looked up at him. "You quit then? That's pretty lame."

"Like I told your dad, I need a change of scenery." He sighed, standing up from his chair and going back to his packing.

"You know… my favorite part of this whole thing? Is when you told my dad he didn't know what it was like." She put the doll back in the box and looked up at him. He was about to speak but she continued. "If you ask me, you're lucky. She went quickly and felt very little pain. If you're gonna go…"

"That's sensitive. Like father like daughter." He snapped.

Aria looked at him, her eyes a bit darker than normal. She was a bit between sad and angry. Wilson regretted snapping at her. She was partially right, knowing full well that patients who suffer are not as happy as those who don't. He had never wanted Amber to suffer and he was lucky she really hadn't. She didn't have to put it that way… it was just so House.

"It's true though." She took a seat on the couch. "When my mom was sick, she suffered. And it wasn't just for a little bit of time it was majority of her life. She was sick and miserable all the time. In her last few months, she could barely get out of bed, she couldn't eat much, she was in pain, she was exhausted, she was sad… not because she was dying but because she couldn't play with me, and she couldn't do things with my dad. And my dad was a mess, it tore him up and it made him a shell of a man. For years after he died, he wouldn't do anything that even remotely reminded him of her. He even stopped playing music."

Wilson sat beside her. He hadn't known House during the marriage. He hadn't known him before he lost his wife. At times, he forgot that House had been married. But she had a point.

"Amber wouldn't want you to give up everything because she died. But then again, maybe she would. I didn't ever meet her. I don't know anything about her. I'd venture to guess that no one wants their loved ones to let their passing destroy them. Maybe selfish people." She looked over at him, her eyes filling with tears a little. "Don't close yourself down. You've talked to enough terminal patients in your career to know how to deal with death. Sure it sucks when you're the one grieving, but… at least you didn't have to watch her waste away in agony."

"Aria… I appreciate the pep talk but… it's not the same thing. It's not fair to compare people's pain. I have to deal with it my way." He said, almost pleading with her.

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean my dad killed her. And it doesn't mean you have to treat him like the enemy. He's miserable. And I haven't seen him miserable in a long time."

She got up and gave him a hug when he stood following her. He held her for a long time. After a few moments, he felt himself beginning to cry, burying his face in her shoulder. Aria held him and let him cry, remembering how he'd done the same for her once upon a time. When Wilson was finished, he pulled away and wiped his eyes.

"I'll think it over." He told her, before she nodded and left the office.

"This is like your… millionth date this week." House scoffed.

Aria came from the bathroom her short hair curled loosely, her face perfectly made up and wearing a simple little black dress with heels. She gave herself another glance over in the mirror before putting some gum in her purse. He watched her prepare for her date, almost amused. Her mother had done the same thing, overly concerned about her appearance even when she looked absolutely flawless. The older she got the more he was reminded of Melody.

"So he's actually picking me up tonight so… try not to be… well yourself." She said smiling at him a little.

"Hey, if he can't take the heat he shouldn't visit hell. Besides, I'm adorable." He gave her a pleased look.

"Yep. Just like rats with the plague." Aria scoffed.

House chuckled, leaning back on the couch. Before he got comfortable the doorbell rang. She was busy fixing her shoe, so he beat her to the door. When he answered, he was surprised to find Chase standing on the other side with a bouquet of flowers. Chase was equally surprised.

"I thought… I recognized this address." Chase swallowed. "Don't tell me Aria's here. Please don't tell me that."

House smirked, looking over his shoulder before moving. "Aria, your date is here. Care to introduce me?"

Chase swallowed. "Oh god… you're kidding me. This is your dad?"

Aria blinked. She suddenly remembered where she'd heard the name Chase.


End file.
